Hollow Bones

Ok, so here's a new twist... I've decided to write something. Well, I mean something different. I've written a paragraph or two here and there and recently, a form of poetry, but this is going past all that. Every now and then, I get the idea for something and it will not let me go until I put it down in writing. I am currently being bullied by a character in a book I am reading and have used this character in a very general way for this... whatever this is that I am writing. I hope you enjoy it...


Slowly, with a dull, steady ache in her head, she began to come to. The cool damp earth beneath her had conformed to her every curve providing a customized fit. The smell of the soil infiltrated her nostrils and registered with a high level of fear, along with some sort of unsure comfort; a kind of safety intertwined with the fear. Her vision seemed unstable and was made markedly worse, along with the aching in her head, with every subtle movement of her head, neck, and shoulders.

She gritted her teeth and held down the nausea: she had to overcome it and take in the view of her surroundings, no matter what they might be. As she tightly closed her eyes to gather her remaining strength and determination, she found she could hear nothing; just her own rapid, unsteady breathing, ferociously bucking heartbeat and blood coursing through miles of veins, resonating in her ears, echoing. Enough strength had been gathered and she gingerly opened her eyes, not quite sure what to expect. With some amount of hesitation, she fully lifted her lids and there, between finding focus, lingered a fear that what she may look upon could be worse than what she had imagined.

Strangely, it wasn't. It seemed to be a room of sorts, yet not a room at all. With lack of adequate light, it appeared to be a roundish room maybe 20 feet in diameter. From what she could tell, it was solidly constructed with thick, ancient beams and chiseled quarry stone. For some reason, she couldn't see any sort of ceiling, save for a few of the tiniest holes of light. At first, she assumed it was a reflection, but of what? There really didn't seems to be enough light anywhere to catch a reflection, just an ambient light of sorts; soft, indirect, blending into the shadows and with no visible source. This mysterious ambient glow did, however, provide her with her first glimpse of herself.

A wave of horror, shame, and disgust overwhelmed her, providing escape for a thin, pitiful whine. She was sure she could hear the blood coursing louder and more violently in her ears. It appeared as if some child of giant proportion had chosen her as her plaything, a rag doll, then having found her expendable, cast her aside cruelly. Her legs splayed out in front, lolling gracelessly, torso ever so slightly tensed and twisted. Her clothes, though, may have been the thing that bothered her the most. They were wrinkled, torn, and soil laden, yet that was not so alarming. The fact that they appeared to have been put on wrong was what bothered her. She could see her pants, buttoned and pulled up properly, yet the zipper remained halfway undone. That made her painfully aware of the fact that although her underwear were present and accounted for, they were only up as far as the tops of her thighs - pants pulled up to cover that fact. Her shirt had been missing a few buttons but nothing worse than that really. More evidence of strange occurrences filled her head; the latest being the state of her bra. She could only see a certain amount from this prone position yet she could feel something was wrong. All else aside, the look of puzzlement on her face would surely have proved to be quite amusing. She determined that her bra actually felt to be tied together in the back yet her breasts were so carefully nestled in their respective cups. She felt stripped and hastily put back together.

Then the realization hit her like a landslide: her hands had been bound. It simply never occurred to her that she never tried to move her hands - she had been trying so hard to assess the key points of her lousy situation. Fear and panic replaced uncertainly and doubt. She writhed and wailed and she pulled at the restraints. Surprisingly, she found that her tethers were quite loose. They seemed to have been applied in the same manner as her clothing.

Before her renegade wail completed it's echo she was certain she'd heard something, and it seemed close. She tried to stand and opted to avoid that maneuver for a moment; closer to the ground was the way to go for now, too much instability with standing. She could now see that the ceiling she sought to identify earlier was a good 100 feet above her. She could have been in a turret - or a well. There was really no way to tell. Although there was a faint light, every now and then bright yet indistinct spheres of light appeared yet none of them managed to infiltrate the opposite side of this round cell. The harder she stared into the pitch black, the blacker it became. It gave her the feeling that she was not alone. Could it be her captor had been watching her this entire time planning a sort of cat and mouse game? She couldn't rush headlong into the darkness to see what was beyond and she couldn't just sit here like an idiot. Carefully, she looked around for something to throw into the darkness. She swore she'd heard something earlier so maybe she could flush it out; or maybe she'd die trying.

"Please...", came the voice from the darkness.

Shocked and terrified she almost dropped to the ground - heart beating painfully hard yet unable to speak at all.

"Please... you are ok. I am sorry."

To her, that sounded like an admission of guilt. "Sorry?" Quietly at first, then louder after anger helped her to find her voice. "Sorry?! What?!?! That's the best you've got.... sorry?!"
Her anger stoked a fire inside and gave her strength to stand without toppling. "Where am I? Why am I here? Show yourself, damn you!!"

From the dark- simply a gasp then, "No, I can't."

As frenzied and ready to pounce as she felt, she could tell there was something about this voice; something very different. Oddly, she felt no threat. There was a rustling sound from the darkness and as one of the mysterious spheres wandered by, she caught only a glimpse of a single being. No arsenal. No cohorts. Her adrenalin was still pumping in a frenzied fashion yet she managed to calm herself enough to try to find rational judgment.

She found the courage to call out, into the unseen, "Who are you then? I am here for you to see yet you would remain cloaked in darkness, hidden from me." Enough time had gone by for her to realize she was not getting an answer. "How did I get here? Where is here? What happened? Please... tell me." She felt like if she chose the wrong words her chances at learning the truth would slip away.

"I do not have all of the answers you seek, for that I am so very sorry.", came the reply.

"Even so... please come closer, perhaps we can speak. Who are you?" She had to keep him talking, it was really the only hope of learning what in the hell had happened.

With slight disgrace in tone, he said "I wish to stay here... in the dark. There is comfort in this darkness, for both of us, I assure you."

Her heart was heavy. She couldn't understand why he'd deny her this single, simple comfort after what she'd apparently been through, yet he did. Almost as if summoned by fate, several of the light spheres calmly circled the air between them, in the space that separated she by the dusty light and he by the enveloping darkness. For a brief moment those two spaces became one and dropped all veils of separation then all too soon resumed it's previous delineation. But it was long enough for her to see. And more than long enough for him to hope that she hadn't. The still shadowy face fearfully peering back at her was so unlike her own yet held more emotion at that moment than any countenance she'd ever laid eyes on. What should have been common sense as she knew it not so long ago dictated that she must have interpreted something incorrectly yet every cell in her body knew what she'd seen to be true. The image before her was of a man, yet not a man at all. He gave the impression of being of medium build and was clad only in modest trousers. He maintained a slight cower that resonated with a fear, punctuated with arms crossed protectively in front of him. His eyes shone with a golden glow that seemed to come from within, carrying with it a deep uncertainty and a haze of sadness. The same eyes that immediately earned her trust, although she could not say exactly why. She just felt it. Her next observation would have to draw heavily on that trust. The thick, full, rich brown hair appeared different than at first glance. At first, it looked shaggy and messy, hanging forward over his eyes and down over his shoulders. In a moment, the pieces began to fit together like a Dali puzzle. She saw that his hair flowed wildly forming a bulky mass behind him: she remembered the rustling she'd hear earlier. My God... wings. He must've read the shock on her face for his expression was now an identical reflection. With the exception that she could see a fierce, pointed beak, avian tongue poised to speak.

His voice flooded the small space, "Wait! You are safe with me!"

Although not afraid, she was utterly confused, "But how can you...You're a....This can't be... You can't be real."

At that, he stepped directly into the faint light, rustling and repositioning those glorious wings. He seemed almost flustered and reached out with very human arms, no longer crossed in from of him or hidden under the heft of the wings.

Sheer surprise caught her off guard and she was stumbling backward, losing footing. With a gentle loft of air, she found herself avoiding crashing into the harsh wall and instead being cradled by an immense wing that allowed her to regain her footing.

He began to speak, "We are both here, you and I, by the will of another. I am not the one to fear." For a moment, his unblinking gaze shifted, as if somewhat uncomfortable. "When you were left here, you were thrown in bare. For two days my wings protected you from the cold and provided what modesty they could. Scant provisions were tossed in after those first two days, along with your garments. Although you hadn't fully come to, I was able to coax you to take some water. I... I tried to clothe you, to replace some of the dignity they tried to strip you of..." He broke her gaze fully and completely, unsure of how learning of his actions would affect her. Would she fear him? Blame him? Or would she recoil in disgust as had so many others...

Her mind reeled - it was beginning to make sense. The rustling sounds, the loosened tethers, the haphazardly placed clothing. He was the reason... She knew there was a good chance she'd be dead if it weren't for him. The look on his face broke her heart.

She reached her hand to his face and slowly turned it toward hers encouraging their eyes to meet. Neither of them were able to look away yet neither could speak as neither had words befitting that moment.

After some time, her hand trailed to where his feathers met his skin just below his beak. His ebony pupils still commanding her gaze managed to allow her to utter a soft "thank you", while a tear of gratitude escaped her. In a fluid motion a silken feather wiped away her tear with a barely audible, "you're welcome".

Although grateful, she wanted to be gone from that place more, "Think we can get out of here?", she asked.

"I can help you, yes. But I cannot leave...", he said quietly.